Chapter title from 'Style' by Taylor Swift.
Part 3
when we go crashing down, we come back every time
It's been 6 months since Rory first visited Logan in London and since then, she has been finding more and more reasons to pick up work on the other side of the pond. Her trips are usually relatively brief, just a few days at a time, but are becoming increasingly frequent and they usually don't go for longer than 3 weeks without seeing each other these days. It has occurred to them both that they see more of each other than they do of their supposed significant others but luckily for them, both Rory and Logan are quite skilled at selfish compartmentalisation and are utilising it to their full advantage.
Logan hasn't questioned her too exhaustively on her apparent mounting interest in British journalism – he doesn't dare, as much as he likes to believe that she's there to be with him (of course that's her reason, isn't it?), he's not certain if his ego (or his heart) could take the mauling of another rejection from her.
Every time they say goodbye and pause, looking into each other's eyes for a moment too long; and every time they're about to stumble into a genuine conversation about them, it's like a light goes off inside Rory's head and she switches to the nonchalant persona she's taken to assuming lately. Every time she plasters her best cavalier smile on her face and reminds him about "Vegas" with a wink or a coy grin, he does his best to mirror back at her, but inside he knows the truth. He knows that he hates Vegas, their ridiculous agreement, which at the time he naively agreed to but which now, he reprimands himself regularly for.
But also the city, which he now despises also. She has ruined Vegas for him. What was once a vacation pinnacle of extravagance and recklessness, is now a depressing reminder that he has willingly entered into a no-strings-attached long-distance arrangement with the only woman he's ever truly loved and within which he is trapped by his own cowardice. Yeah, he really fucking hates Vegas.
When he told her that he was coming back to the States for work, she insisted that she repay the favour in giving him a place to stay for a few nights ("It's not exactly the Plaza but I know where all the best takeout places are. Plus, avoiding sticking to the wall is an assault course in itself, you'll barely miss your gym membership."). It was certainly going to be a less luxurious experience than when she stayed with him in his immaculate Mayfair home; but Rory had never felt the need to be embarrassed in front of Logan. He knew who she was, what she did for a living, and her apartment wasn't anything she would be ashamed of.
He had gone straight into a full day of meetings from the plane and then taken a car out to her place in Brooklyn as soon as his workday was over. She met him at the door with an enormous grin and a glass of scotch and pulled him towards her bedroom. Logan knew that he could very easily get used to coming home to a welcome like this.
He had enjoyed the chance to explore her home the previous evening, though can you really call it her home if she barely spends half her time there? There are a few photos scattered around the apartment – Rory with Lorelai, her graduation photo with her grandparents, Lane's boys, Paris' children – but little else to show that Rory lives there. Other than the 3 bookshelves full of tomes, that is. Those are all Rory.
They'd ordered pizza and watched TV in bed before Logan had succumbed to jetlag and general fatigue. When he woke the next morning, he wasn't as disoriented as he could have been, the familiar smell of Rory surrounding him and her warm body touching his bringing him to his senses quite quickly.
Logan had hopped into the shower and so Rory padded into the kitchen to put a pot of coffee on, bringing two steaming cups back into the bedroom with her. Her phone rings – it's Lane – and she begins to chat absentmindedly to her childhood friend about Hep Alien's recent ventures. She is vaguely aware of the sound of the water shutting off but then Lane continues to describe their gig from the previous night.
"Rory, you gotta call your super about this shower. I'm taking my life in my own hands even stepping under it." Logan calls out loudly.
"What was that?" Lane interjects.
"Nothing." Rory mutters hurriedly.
"Hey Ace, what do you want for breakfast?" Logan emerges from the bathroom and Rory is momentarily distracted by the sight of him with nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. How on earth he looked better in his thirties than he did in college she had yet to decipher.
She holds her finger to her lips to shush him but it's too late.
"Who was that?" Lane asks.
"No one."
"Rory, I can hear someone else there." She pressed on, why was Rory lying to her?
Rory tried to think quickly. "It's just Pete."
Lane does not sound convinced. "I thought your boyfriend's name is Paul. Hold on, did I hear him call you Ace?"
Rory begins to panic, this cannot happen. No one can find out about this, if someone finds out then it's going to spiral and before you know it everyone will know. She's not sure if she's ready for everyone to know. Hell, she has no idea what there is for people to know – are they just sleeping together? Are they in a relationship (excluding the ones they're in with other people)? Are they having an affair?
Whatever it is, she knows that she's not ready for it to alter, not just yet. And she is undoubtedly not ready for it to end, which is what logic dictates will happen when their secret is out. She needs this private, safe space with Logan to be protected for a while longer. Just until she's ready to decide what to do.
"Lane. Um … look can I call you back later?"
"Rory. Is Logan there? What is going on?" She is met with silence. "Rory, it's me, you can tell me anything."
Rory feels the guilt spread throughout her. Lane is her best friend and has been for practically her whole life. They've shared secrets, truths, lies, successes, heartbreaks and losses. And they've always stuck by each other, she cannot stop trusting Lane now. Besides, it might be nice to have someone to talk to about the complete mindfuck that she seems to be going through. She's considered telling Paris (after she quizzed her on her numerous trips to London) but with her current difficulties with Doyle and Paris' insecurities regarding his fidelity, Rory thought it best to not mention that she is for all intents and purposes cheating on her own boyfriend.
She takes a deep breath and squeezes her eyes shut. "Yes, Logan's here. I promise I will explain it all to you in person when I'm next in Stars Hollow. For now, can you please promise that you won't say anything to anyone. Especially my mom."
Logan winces at her words. They're a reminder that what they're doing, what they have, is not serious, it's not worthwhile to her. It's not even worth telling her mother about, her primary confidante. In fact, she actively lies about them, he knows that as far as Lorelai is concerned he is a young female British reporter named Deedee who is kind enough to lend Rory her couch when she is in town.
Rory sees the hurt on his face and she wishes she could take those last words back. She remembers how surprised Logan was when she told him that her mother had no idea about the pair of them. What he doesn't realise yet is that Rory and Lorelai are not in each other's pockets to the same degree as they once were. They still are (and probably always will be) closer than most mothers and daughters, but the significant geographical distance between them has understandably affected their relationship. Besides, for years now Lorelai has had Luke to confide in and depend on; and for Rory – though she's not ready to admit it, Logan is quickly taking on that role for her again too.
"Of course." Lane answers immediately. "I'll still be keeping your secrets on my deathbed, Rory Gilmore, you must know that."
Rory smiles warmly, how she got so lucky to have a friend like Lane she will never understand. "Thanks Lane."
"So I guess I should let you get back to whatever it is you're doing that I can't wait to hear all about. Call me soon?"
"Absolutely, give those boys a kiss from me. Maybe not Zack, but definitely Brian" she teased.
Lane laughed. "I'll see what I can do. Bye."
"Bye." Rory hung up and met Logan's gaze as he leaned against the doorframe. "Sorry about that."
"Don't be, I'm sorry. I didn't realise you were on the phone. I should have been more quiet." He apologised, worry starting to fill his mind. He knew this day was inevitable, when this couldn't be keep between the two of them anymore, and he worried that this could be all the incentive Rory would need to bolt.
Rory sits on the bed, still staring at her phone, willing herself to take back the last few moments. Wishing that everything could go back to how it was before she'd spoken to Lane. She knows that this is going to change things between them, she knows that once she starts talking to Lane about her current predicament that she's going to start second-guessing herself at every turn (even more so than she is already).
"Let's just forget that that ever happened. I'll talk to Lane but we don't need to worry about her saying anything."
"Rory," he pleaded.
"Logan, let's just leave it. We're in Vegas right, so let's just enjoy Vegas."
That's when he sees it - the carefree façade masking her emotions returns as she takes a deep breath, attempting to push her doubts to the furthest recesses of her mind, drops the phone on the sheets and stands to kiss him. Deeply, fiercely, leaving him with no doubt that she considers this subject closed.
Somehow, they managed to move past Rory's conversation with Lane and were reasonably successful in pretending that their secret wasn't out and that it didn't terrify them both. Compartmentalization and denial were working overtime for them both once again. They had gone out for brunch before Logan had to go to the office for another meeting and Rory took the opportunity to drop in on a couple of editors while she was in Manhattan. With her freelance work rapidly drying up (which she was desperately trying to not worry about. Energy she probably should be using to just write.), it couldn't hurt to keep her contacts sweet. He picked her up on the way back to Brooklyn and they went for a dinner at a small bistro a few blocks from her apartment.
Logan returned from the bathroom as Rory was finishing off the last of the wine from her glass.
"Your phone rang while you were gone, apparently Dolores Umbridge is desperate to get hold of you." She remarked as his phone began to vibrate again on the table.
"Oh crap!" He groaned.
"Your mom?"
"Who else?"
"You're such a dork." She laughed, knowing that he and Honor had a habit of giving their overbearing parents uncouth nicknames.
"She must know I'm here … on the East Coast, not here here," he clarified at Rory's alarmed stare.
Their attention was drawn to the flashing smart phone in front of them as it began to ring yet again as soon as it ended.
"She's persistent."
"That's one word, of many, for her." Logan groaned again. "I should call her back, she won't stop calling otherwise," he stood to take it outside.
"I'll get the check and meet you out the front?"
He nodded and leaned down to kiss her briefly before leaving the restaurant.
Rory unlocked the door to her apartment and allowed Logan to follow her inside. He'd barely said two words to her on the walk home, his phone call with his mother obviously hadn't gone well but the reasons why were a mystery to her.
They shrugged off their jackets and Rory tugged him towards the couch. "You want to tell me what's wrong?" She raised gently.
Logan releases a guttural sigh, as if the words emerging from his mouth physically hurt him. "Apparently, I'm getting engaged."
Rory tries to mask her shock, her disdain, her heartache, but she's too late. Pain flashes in her eyes and the tears waiting there sting.
"Oh," she finally says, "wow". He tries to reach for her hand but she recoils and if it were possible for his heart to break any further then that action would be the one to do it.
"It's not what I want but …" he begins, desperately trying to find the right words.
He's not sure if the right words even exist for these circumstances. His parents have been dropping fairly obvious hints for a while that they expect him to settle down, but he didn't really believe they would attempt to strong-arm him into an actual engagement. He'd always known that this is what he should expect from his life, a semi-arranged marriage to a respectable (read: old money) society girl but as time wore on he naively assumed that he might get to choose his own wife (or no wife at all the way his love life seemed to be going). Since Rory came back into his life especially he has been fooling himself into thinking his path was far less predetermined than it actually is. To say his mother's call came as a shock was an understatement.
Rory watches him fidget, wringing his hands together in nervousness.
"I guess I should say 'congratulations'." The word tastes sour in her mouth.
"Rory, listen -"
"When?" she interrupts him.
"I don't know. I'm sure there'll be some sort of announcement soon and probably a party, of course." He's responding on autopilot, the thought of an official engagement still a foreign concept in his head.
"No, I mean when will you get married?" She spits out the words like they're poison.
"I have no idea. Never, hopefully."
"What?" she asks, genuinely confused.
"It's business, it's a set-up, it's not real. I don't actually want to marry her."
"Well that's charming."
"Hey, it's mutual. Odette doesn't want to marry me either. We'll have to find a way to get out of it." Without speaking to her, Logan knew that his sometime girlfriend would be as delighted with this development as he was.
"Hold on, so why are you getting engaged?"
"Apparently we've been dating for the appropriate length of time and this is what happens next. My mom's putting together a guest list, my dad's drawing up the pre-nup. Got to establish the future of the Huntzberger dynasty. It's so fucking archaic, it boils down to a business transaction, just an exchange of goods. That's what I'm worth."
He sounds hurt, discussing his parents' penchant for treating him as nothing other than a commodity, but Rory cannot concentrate on anything other than his declaration – he is getting engaged. But yet here he is, in her apartment, where that morning they'd been drinking coffee and laughing at Buzzfeed articles while she wore his shirt and not a lot else. How can he possibly be here, with her, being with her so intimately and comfortably when he has a fiancée, or a fiancée to be, waiting on the other side of the ocean?
She feels as if there is no air in her lungs, as if her breath has been stolen from her but she manages to sputter out some words regardless.
"I guess you should probably go, get back to your fiancée."
"Rory …" he rolls his eyes at her resentful tone.
"No! You do not get to 'Rory' me. You tell me that you're getting engaged but what, I'm supposed to act like it's no big deal, like this is how normal people behave?!" She shoots up from the couch in anger.
"Since when do you want normal?" He stands to match her stance, his shock quickly being displaced by defensiveness. "This was your idea – keeping it casual, no strings, 'what happens in Vegas'!"
"I didn't exactly have to twist your arm to persuade you though did I? And you've certainly been reaping the benefits of our arrangement." She adds bitterly, her mind a swarming mess of devastation and resentment. If he's getting married does that make her the dirty mistress?!
"Don't try to act like this is just abut sex." He shakes his head forcefully and steps back to put some distance between them.
"What else could it be about? After all, she's the one who you flaunt at society events, she's the one your family approves of, she's the one good enough to marry! I'm just the one you screw in secret!" Rory shouts, her arms flailing wildly.
"Don't you dare!" Logan barks, pointing at her accusingly. "I asked you to marry me, you're the one who said 'no'. You."
This is it. Big, flashing lights with sirens blaring are going off in both their heads. Their one (unspoken) rule. The one thing that was absolutely, 100%, completely off limits to discuss – The Proposal.
She can't help it, all the buried pain accumulated since that day rises to the surface and her biting words fly out of her mouth before she can stop them.
"Yeah, well when you didn't get the exact answer you wanted after springing it on me out of nowhere, what did you do Logan?! Oh that's right, you gave up and walked away like the spoilt brat you are, leaving me crying in my graduation gown. I was devastated." Rory didn't even realise she was crying until she stopped screaming at him and she hastily tried to wipe her tears away.
"Wow. How long have you been waiting to say that?" He shakes his head, sighing despondently.
Logan has to bite down on his tongue to keep his own tears at bay, seeing Rory crying only makes it harder. He doesn't think he'll ever get over how it felt when he realised that she wasn't going to say 'yes'. No vicious dressing down from his family or any authority figure has ever made him feel as utterly worthless as when he recognised that he would never be good enough for her. He turned and walked away from her because he didn't know if he could stop himself from crumbling at her feet and begging her to stay with him if he looked into her eyes for a moment longer. It has been pointed out to him in the last eight years that though she rejected his proposal, he should have explored the option of them dating long-distance again, but in those moments all he heard was 'no' and all he felt was indescribable, all-consuming, suffocating heartbreak.
He tries to reach out to her, wanting to pull her into his arms and make everything okay again (he's not sure if this situation was ever okay to begin with) but she flinches away from his touch.
"I think you should go." She snivels through the remnants of her tears.
"Rory …" he pleads with her.
"I can't talk about this Logan. Please, just get your stuff and go."
She means it, she really can't talk about this. Does he have any idea how much resolve it takes for her to not scream at him how differently she wishes things had gone for them that day? How she wishes she had reacted differently when faced with his expectant eyes, an engagement ring and a room full of people staring at her? How she wished she had gone with him to talk things through that night, rather than running off with her mother? Mostly, how she wished they had talked more about their future before he felt the urge to surprise her with a proposal?!
He wants to tell her that no, they have to talk about this, but he has never been good at confrontations like this (the emotional kind, physical confrontation he is decidedly at ease with) and he can't handle the pain in her tone and the still-rolling tears on her face. He hates himself for being the one to put them there. He sighs dejectedly and retreats into her bedroom to gather his things.
When she hears him exiting the room, she moves to stand in front of the closed apartment door, effectively blocking his way out.
He looks surprised at her position and drops his bags onto the floor gently, assuming that their conversation is yet from over.
"So … is this it? Are we ending this? Should be pretend it never happened?" Rory asks softly.
"It's up to you." Logan moves towards her.
"No, I think it's up to you, you're the one with the fiancée." She repeats the word like it's a curse.
"Well what does your boyfriend think of this?" She looks at him blankly. "Your Valentine's Day card from him is still stuck to your fridge Rory!"
Her eyes dart to the kitchen and the offending piece of card. Damn it. She hadn't even realised that was there.
"He's not … it's not like that," she struggles to explain herself. "It's not what you think … it's not like me and you." She's not even fully sure what she means by that (she does know, she means she doesn't love him.). "Can we just not talk about him?"
He nods, but only barely.
"What do you want?" Rory raises her head to watch him.
"I want to be here with you." he expresses earnestly, looking into her eyes. Please let her understand, he pleads with himself, let her see that I mean that I want to be with her, wherever she is. That I will give her anything she wants, I will do whatever she wants. All she has to do is ask.
She can't take the intensity of his gaze, his words, the emotion radiating off of him. Instead she concentrates on his hands, one at her waist and the other cradling the back of her head. She can't handle the strength of this situation but she can reciprocate his touch. This they can do, always have.
They stand in front of the closed door, holding each other, her hands clutching to him like he's her life jacket.
"What do you want?" He whispers.
"I don't want this to end." She answers honestly. Her heart begs her to continue, to say that she wants to be with him, that she loves him, that she never stopped and that what she needs more than anything in this moment is for him to say that he feels the same.
But she remembers the hurt etched on his face the day he walked away from her on the Yale lawn; the same look his features held just moments earlier as they conducted their screaming match. She remembers the nights she spent sobbing into her pillow in various motels on the Obama campaign because she missed him so much her body ached.
She decides that they can't be together like before, because if it goes wrong (and her track record denotes that's what will happen), they can't handle another goodbye like that. Instead, she kids herself and pretends that if they continue as they have been, that they can stop themselves from getting in too deep. If she really tries, she just might start to believe it too.
"I don't want this to end either … " Logan starts and he gathers up the courage to keep on. To tell her that he wants to break things off with Odette and be with her. That it is an easy call for him and he'd do it in a heartbeat. But he desperately needs her to say that that's what she wants too. He can't handle any more leaps into the unknown when it comes to commitment, he barely survived the emotional battle last time and he still has the scars to show for it.
"So … we can carry on, like this. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas?" she asks timidly.
No, I hate Vegas, he thinks to himself, I hate sharing you with some faceless man I've never met, I hate only having you for a few days at a time and constantly having to say goodbye. But, looking into those blue eyes that could melt even the stoniest of hearts, as usual he can't say 'no' to her.
"Sure. What happens in Vegas." He answers reluctantly.
She feigns mild surprise and nonchalance when she hears of Logan's engagement, every time she hears of it. By the time her grandmother, her mother and Paris have all brought it up with her she is a pro at indifference and though they all seem to see through it to varying degrees (and she is pretty sure that Lorelai is starting to suspect that it is more pleasure than business that keeps bringing her back to London), they all accept her reluctance to discuss the matter further.
After all, it's no big deal that he's technically engaged to someone else. When he meets her at the arrivals gate when she next lands in Heathrow, she rushes towards him and he kisses her passionately, just like always, and neither of them mention Odette, Paul or proposals.
If they stick to the rules (repeat what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas ad infinitum), they can't go wrong and they can't get hurt.
A/N: I keep re-editing this chapter as I'm not thrilled with how it turned out; sticking to the canon we saw in the revival and attempting to fill in the blanks, whilst remaining faithful to who Rory and Logan were in the original series is difficult. I struggle to see how they could have been together but not had real conversations about their situation and then resolved their feelings for each other. Anyway, I'll keep trying and hopefully I'll be able to explain/resolve it in a meaningful way.
Thanks again for the lovely feedback and apologies that this got quite long.